


Unchained

by purplejellosg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Episode: s04e15 Chain Reaction, F/M, Little bit of angst, Missing Scene, Romance, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26840248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejellosg1/pseuds/purplejellosg1
Summary: Post-ep/Missing Scene for Chain Reaction. No SG-1 means no chain of command. Sam/Jack.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 28
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

#

No SG-1 means no chain of command.

No chain of command means no regulations.

No regulations means nothing to keep him from kissing her the way he wants to.

Time isn't on their side, and they know it. General Hammond will return to the helm of the SGC in a day or so, and SG-1 will be reinstated when he does. The chain of command will firmly shackle them once more, prevent them from being able to be Sam and Jack.

The threat is gone but the guilt remains. Not guilt about being with him in the here and now; she surprisingly didn't feel any guilt about that. It was the guilt of what she'd done under her new, temporary orders.

She'd destroyed a world and all life that once lived on it.

In Jack's arms, Sam allows herself to fall apart and find absolution. She submits to his ministrations, gives in to his demands, and feels like she finds herself in his embrace.

Not Major Carter, but Samantha.

Sam.

She can be Sam to his Jack, and it's everything she ever dreamt it would be and more.

They know the clock is ticking, too quickly.

She doesn't regret this, could never regret it, but she finds herself wondering as she lies beside him in the darkness of her room how she can move on from it.

How she can forget, or at least pretend, that she knows what it feels like to feel his lips against hers, hands against her skin. To rise to dizzying heights and fall apart together. To hear him say her name in that way, full of reverence and adoration.

His arm tightens around her waist, his fingers flexing over her stomach. His lips nuzzle the sensitive skin at the back of her neck, and she feels him breathe "stop thinking" against her, his voice a rumble she feels vibrate through his chest against her back.

She can't stop thinking, not now. When he was above her, all around her, she couldn't do a lot of thinking; she could only feel and feel too much. Not enough.

Now she thinks the words over and over, 'not enough' and wonders if it ever would be.

"Sam," he tells her, his tone lightly admonishing.

She isn't Carter in this room, not in this moment. Carter is his name for her when he can't call her Sam, when he has to abide by the rules that keep the professional boundaries firmly in place. In this moment, she is Sam, and he is Jack, and tears she's pleased he can't see spring to her eyes at the despair that Sam and Jack will soon have to go back to their respective corners at the back of their minds and hearts with no way of knowing when they can be let out again.

He kisses his way to her ear, nibbles on her earlobe. When she doesn't acknowledge him, he bites a little harder, making her hiss.

"Stop thinking," he mumbles, and it sounds like an order.

"We shouldn't have done this," she says instead, and it's enough to make him tense behind her, his fingers flexing against her bare stomach. "I don't regret it," she adds quickly, "not really. But I don't know how we go back from this."

He relaxes a little at her words, or maybe more at the longing tone of voice. "So we don't go back," he tells her, and makes it sound so simple even though she doesn't know if he means what she wants it to mean.

"How do we do that?" She asks. It takes a little bit of coordination – their legs are tangled together, the sheets tangled around them adding an extra challenge, and he has to loosen his arms which prompts a low grumble from his throat – but she manages to turn to face him.

His brown eyes are dark, the look in them unmistakably loving. It's a look she's used to seeing in rare glimpses, not exposed so openly. He looks younger, happier, more at peace than he has in the whole four years she's known him and she finds herself slipping that little bit further in love with him, in the softer side of Jack that Colonel O'Neill keeps under wraps.

She'd known he would be a passionate lover, a generous one. She'd even expected the gentle, tender side of him; it was a side usually reserved for unguarded moments either with her, their teammates or with the kids they'd encountered during their travels.

But this unmistakably loving side, the affection he bestows on her so easily and so openly, it kind of takes her breath away and makes her feel all warm inside that has nothing to do with the hot, hard heat that was all but consuming in the hours before.

This is Jack as a lover, as a partner. Not the Colonel as a Commanding Officer, teammate and friend.

She feels like she's only just met him, and she knows she wants to keep him.

"We go forward," he tells her, murmurs really, as he pauses in closing the gap between them, his lips just brushing hers. "This isn't a one-time-only thing, Sam."

"But the regulations," she protests, falling silent when he kisses her, swallowing the word between them.

"They don't exist here," he breathes against her mouth. "Nothing exists here but you and me."

It would be so easy, she thinks, to just accept his word as gospel. To believe it could be so simple, so easy, as to draw a line between their day jobs and Air Force regulations and what happens when it's just the two of them.

"Just go with it, Sam," he pleads, tearing his mouth from hers to kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes when the slide shut. She allows him to roll her onto her back, welcomes his weight as he cocoons her body with his own. "Just trust me."

"I do," she says, because it's true. If there's one thing she's certain of in this life, it's that she can trust Jack O'Neill with her heart, her body, her life.

"Then let me love you," he murmurs, trailing his lips along the line of her jaw, along her throat and down.

She did and surrendering so wholly had never felt so sweet.

#

Slow, lazy mornings were what he missed most about married life. The early stirrings of consciousness, hazy memories of hot nights creating a slow seduction of the senses.

Waking with Sam was something he could get used to and didn't think would ever get old.

He woke on his back, his arm around her middle. Her face buried in the crook of his neck, hand resting over his chest laying claim to his heart, leg thrown possessively over his. He turned his head to kiss the top of hers, smiling in wonder at the picture he knew they'd make.

He thought back to her words before they'd slipped into sleep, the way she'd given voice to the worries in her mind. It was so unlike Carter to be so candid, so refreshing to have Sam be unafraid to speak her mind.

Mindful not to wake her, he detangled their legs and slipped out from beneath her. An amused smile curved his lips when she stirred, made a noise of discontent, and reached for his still warm pillow, pulling it against her and curling her body around it.

Jack paused in the bedroom to put on his boxers and get his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. He closed the bedroom door behind him almost all the way and ventured along the hallway to Sam's kitchen. He went through the motions of fixing them coffee and left the water to boil as he dialled a familiar number.

"General? It's Jack."

#


	2. Withdrawal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 as requested :)

Unchained: Withdrawal

They follow General Hammond's instructions and put everything on hold until he gives them the go ahead. It's a necessary evil, they know, because Jack has made an enemy for life in Kinsey and the slimy Senator will be watching every move he makes, waiting for the smallest of mistakes.

It's frustrating and it's upsetting, and they both feel the agony of waiting for something they now know will feel so good, so right. 

Jack recognises Sam pulling away from him, the little smiles and glances slow to a stop. He knows she's protecting herself but damn, it doesn't make it any easier.

They're on P4X-347 when the inevitable happens. It's as they walk along the beach, close enough to touch but careful to keep a distance, that the tension that's been slowly building since he left her house after their one night together comes to a head.

He knows in their reports they'll blame it on withdrawal from the light, just as he knows they both know that withdrawal from each other is just as if not more likely to be the trigger that causes them to blow.

He starts the conversation, hearing her sigh and catching the look – the glare – she shoots him when she thinks he isn't looking. "What?"

Sam sighs again, hand on her P90, heavy boots leaving footprints on the sand. "I guess the reality that we may never go home is setting in."

It's a genuine worry, one he shares, but he knows her well enough to know there's more to her attitude than a worry that they won't go home. They've been through worse situations, both together and apart, and as far as he's concerned, being together makes this one a lot more bearable. "Oh, Hammond'll keep us supplied with everything we'll need until we can figure this out," he says, attempting to be Mr Positivity when they both know it's not usually his style. But it's Sam – Carter – and she needs it so he tries. "It's a nice beach."

And she promptly throws his attempt back in his face, frustration causing her to snap at him. "It'd be a good excuse for you, wouldn't it?"

"Huh?"

"To do nothing for a while," she mutters, rolling her eyes. 

Her stride quickens and he hurries to match it, his brain following at a slightly slower pace. "What?"

"Forget it," she mutters, trying to get ahead of him.

But Jack isn't about to let her, the part of his mind that isn't reeling from the effects of the light panicking that if he doesn't stop her, she'll walk out of his life for good. "That would be, "Forget it, Sir.""

"Oh, please," she scoffs, and he thinks he detects some hurt under the annoyance. "You think I'm keeping that up if we're stuck here forever?"

"Listen, Major…" He emphasises her rank, partly to remind her and partly to remind himself why he can't just grab her and kiss her the way he really wants to.

"No way," Sam argues, which doesn't make it any easier to resist the temptation.

"That's "No way, Colonel.""

"I'm supposed to accept that?" She demands, eyes blazing. "That's the way it's going to be?"

"That's the way it is." For now, he thinks. Please God, let it just be for now.

"What difference does it make? It's not up to you."

He stops walking and grabs her, pulls her to face him. "Carter! You're in withdrawal."

"Oh, I'm in withdrawal?" She grabs him back, though he isn't sure if it's to push him away or pull him closer. All he knows is that she's right there, eyes flashing, lips parted, panting slightly. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to kiss her furiously, fiercely. 

"Yes! So am I." He's in withdrawal from her, from her taste and her touch. He sees her eyes darken, watches her tongue dart out to moisten lips that are dry and begging for his to cover them. 

He takes half a step closer, jerks her towards him and she stumbles another half step towards him.

Her eyes drop to his lips, and he knows she's feeling it, too.

The impulse, the need.

Regulations and waiting be damned, he's more addicted to her than he is to that damn light. Something tells him it's a lifelong thing and he's absolutely okay with that. 

He lifts one hand from her shirt to cup her cheek and leans in. He feels her breath on his face, sees her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes drift shut.

Teal'c's voice causes him to curse, and Sam – Carter – to take a step back. She looks stunned at what they'd been about to do, in the middle of a mission no less, but he catches her longing look as they run along the sand together towards their teammate and the bodies he's found.

#

A week into their three week stay, the news he's waiting for finally comes. Hammond asks to speak to him alone, and he notices the visual of his commanding officer has the background of the General's office instead of the control room.

Hammond assures him the line is secure, that Walter's silenced the audio in the control room, and tells him he's pulled a lot of strings on both of their parts but finally, they've got the green light. 

He wastes very little time in seeking Sam out to tell her the news, barely waiting till the link disengaged before hurrying through the maze of hallways that link the many rooms of the palace.

He finds her in the room she's claimed, one on the upper floor that has a nice view of the ocean. The only view he's interested in is her, preferably naked, either above or below him, he doesn't mind which. 

She looks up from her laptop when he opens the door, but the question dies on her lips when he closes it - firmly - behind him.

There must be something in his eyes, in his face, something that gives him away, because she moves the laptop to a safe position on the floor beside the mass of cushions that make up her bed and gets to her feet.

Time slows as he walks towards her, achingly slow. He wants all of her, now, but also wants to draw out their reunion as long as he can manage.

Jack reaches her, reaches for her, and she all but falls against him, lips already parted and waiting for him when he lowers his head and kisses her hungrily. Hands aren't idle as they tear at clothes, whispered words making promises between kisses that alternate between desperate and tender.

This is it, this is their chance, and neither is going to let it pass untaken.

#

**Author's Note:**

> Open ending for now; might add a bit more at some point :)


End file.
